My Strange Rescue, and Other Stories of Sport and Adventure in CanadaOxley, J. Macdonald (James Macdonald)
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My Strange Rescue, and Other Stories of Sport and Adventure in Canada
Oxley, J. Macdonald (James Macdonald)
Canada -- Juvenile fiction; Canada -- Juvenile literature
It is a great many years since the black fox, white bear, and walrus
were last seen upon the island. Too much money could be made out of
them when dead for the fishermen, who knew of their presence, to let
them live long; and so with powder and shot and steel they were
ruthlessly exterminated. The beautiful skins of the black fox, worth
one hundred golden crowns each, went principally to France, where they
were made up into splendid robes for royalty.
Just how the wild horses and cattle found their way to Sable Island is
not positively known.
They were first heard of in those early days when ships loaded with
cattle, grain, and farming utensils were coming over in little fleets
from Europe to help to settle America. In all likelihood some of these
vessels got cast away on the island—for it has ever been a dreadful
place for wrecks—and in some way the animals managed to scramble safe
ashore, and thus the place became populated.
The wild cattle disappeared early in the century; but the horses, or
rather ponies, are still there, and very interesting creatures they are.
Winter and summer they are out on the sand in all weathers. Indeed,
they scorn to go under cover even in the wildest storms; and although
shelters have been built for them, they will not deign to enter them.
Another curious thing about them is that they are never seen to lie
down, and apparently go to sleep standing.
There are now about four hundred of these ponies, divided into troops,
each under the charge and control of an old stallion, whose shaggy,
unkempt mane and tail sweep the ground as he stands sentinel over his
numerous family.
They belong to the Dominion Government, and it has been usual to cull
out some forty or fifty of the best of them each year and send them up
to Halifax, where they command good prices.
They are stanch, sturdy little animals, and very serviceable when
properly broken. In my boyhood days I rejoiced in the possession of a
fine bay that, barring a provoking habit of pitching an unwary rider
over his head, was a great source of enjoyment.
The manner of catching the ponies is for a number of mounted men to
surround a band and drive it into a corral in which a tame pony has been
placed as a decoy. This is often a very exciting experience: the
cracking of whips, shouting of men, neighing of ponies, combine with the
plunging of the frightened captives and the gallant charges of the
enraged stallions to make up a scene not readily forgotten.
Once safely corraled, the best males are picked out and lassoed, and the
rest turned loose to breathe the salt air of freedom once more.
As the breed has been observed to be degenerating greatly of late years,
means have been taken to improve it, and it is probable that ere long
Sable Island ponies will be more desirable than ever.
A very amusing thing in connection with animal life on Sable Island is
the story of the rats, cats, and dogs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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